


The Precipice of Sound

by your_bro_joe



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Clubbing, F/F, Human GLaDOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 19:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bro_joe/pseuds/your_bro_joe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After releasing Chell from the Aperture labs, a strange malfunction leaves GLaDOS in a human body. With no one else to turn to, the two women form a strange bond, and with a little help from alcohol and adrenaline, turn it into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Precipice of Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Portal Kink Meme. Prompt was Chell and GLaDOS dirty dancing at a club. I listened to Judas by Lady Gaga while writing, if you'd like a soundtrack.

This wasn’t what she had expected at all.

Honestly, it is the opposite of what she had expected; being freed from the laboratory, by her antagonist no less, but not only that. No, that almost seemed to make perfect sense by comparison.

On her way out of the lab, after the (begrudgingly admittedly) beautiful turret opera, there was horrible, crackling, deafening grinding sound. Chell swung her head around, searching for the source, but there was nothing that seemed immediately threatening, so she shrugged it off as leftover damage from Wheatley, or GLaDOS beginning to repair her facility. She just barely caught the melodious scream that echoed just before the door slammed behind the Companion Cube.

She’d wandered through the seemingly endless grassy field for about an hour when she saw a shape far ahead. Intrigued by the change in scenery, she sped up her pace. As she got closer, she realized the shape was human, and closer still, female. The stranger was incredibly thin, and all of her body visible above the grass was nude. She had her back to Chell and her arms crossed tight over her chest, seemingly undisturbed by the sound of Chell’s footsteps. Chell found it incredibly odd, but also comforting to see another human. She had gotten so sick of robots.

Even when Chell got right behind her, the stranger didn’t move, and Chell would have assumed she were a statue if she had not been obviously breathing. Chell blinked a few times, observing the woman’s short, bobbed blonde hair, then slowly walked around her to meet light brown eyes. The woman opened her mouth.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

That voice… nasal and smug and sarcastic, and somehow more unsettling without its computerized lilt. There was no one else it could be. But how the hell did GLaDOS end up a naked human woman standing in the middle of a field? Chell flinched, but only for a second, because GLaDOS was saying she’d already told her to go, so Chell decided she wouldn’t even dignify this ridiculousness with a response, and turned around, dragging the Companion Cube behind her.

“Wait-!”

Chell would have kept going, if not for the edge to that soft new voice. She had never known the AI to panic except for those moments in the old Aperture labs, recalling her past as Caroline. She was loathe to admit it, but she had bonded with the murderous robot, and as she was obviously vulnerable and in need of help, Chell couldn’t just leave her there. She wasn’t really a monster, after all.

Turning back to the strange blonde woman, Chell fixed her with a stern look, then undid the knotted sleeves at her waist and stepped out of her orange jumpsuit, revealing a sort of beige, knee-length leotard underneath. She stepped purposefully back to GLaDOS, holding the jumpsuit out to her. GLaDOS looked at it as though it were diseased, shrinking back a little. Chell jabbed it toward her, gesturing to GLaDOS’ naked body, and the other woman finally gave in, taking it gingerly with long, thin fingers.

Once she had put it on, she looked at Chell, then averted her eyes, muttering a stiff “thank you.” She tried to cross her arms again, but it was obvious she was not used to having such appendages, and she had to attempt it three times, fully aware she looked like a fool. If it hadn’t been nearing dusk, Chell might have seen a blush on her cheeks. GLaDOS huffed impatiently and clutched her arms tightly.

“Look, if things were different, I would have flatly refused your stinky, sweaty, stupid-looking jumpsuit,” and she did not want to admit just how stupid it looked on her, let alone Chell, “but seeing as I am not currently in charge of a bottomless deathtrap, I am not above humbling myself just enough to get you to help me.” When Chell continued to stand still, GLaDOS took it as a sign to continue.

“No, I don’t know how this happened. My best guess is that that idiot triggered a dormant experiment while he was destroying my facility. I wouldn’t be surprised if, while attempting to transfer Caroline’s consciousness into me, the scientists came up with a back-up way to get her out should complications arise. As to where this body came from, I have no idea. There are some areas beyond my sight, as you well know,” she finished, glaring at the brunette human. Chell merely continued to stare, then lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, asking if she was done yet.

“Anyway, I … _respectfully_ request your assistance with this nonsense. There’s an entrance to the facility in the ground a few feet from here. If we can find the lab where they performed the transfer, then we could-“

Chell held a hand up to signal her to stop. Setting her features to a stern expression, she pointed to herself, then to the vast field behind her. When she ascertained that GLaDOS had gotten the idea, she turned around and began trudging away again. GLaDOS fidgeted with her arms again, now trying to un-cross them, and haltingly followed her.

“Wait, where are you going?” she asked, voice high-pitched with panic. Chell just pointed straight ahead again, dragging her cube along behind her. GLaDOS caught up to her, half-walking and half-trotting with her new, spindly legs, trying to catch Chell’s eye with the utmost urgency. “I know you don’t have many charitable feelings towards me, but hey, I let you go, didn’t I? Why, when you were carrying me around, I almost felt as though we could call each other _friends_. Can’t you help out a friend?”

Chell just kept moving forward.

“This isn’t because I’m thinner than you and I look better in the jumpsuit, is it?”

Chell stopped, gave GLaDOS a wild-eyed look, then kept going.

“So you’re really not going to help me?” It was only half a question. She shouldn’t have expected it, but Chell was just so good at following orders, GLaDOS had hoped she’d be willing to follow one more. But alas, no. “Fine,” she huffed, keeping pace with Chell. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you murdered me, but instead of giving you that satisfaction…” she went quiet, surveying the surroundings.

“You really don’t know where you’re going, do you?” she prodded. Chell’s silence was her answer. “I know the locations of all the entrances to my facility. I can lead you to one near a city.” Chell did not respond. “Follow me,” GLaDOS ordered, then broke away in a completely different direction.

Chell wordlessly followed.

 

* * *

 

GLaDOS didn’t hate humans, as she liked to constantly remind Chell. They made excellent test subjects, and their smell wasn’t really that horrible once you “grew accustomed” to it. And GLaDOS, or Gladys, as she had come to be called, had plenty of time to grow accustomed to it, in this city full of thousands of the creatures. When the two of them walked down the streets, Gladys would sometimes stare after particularly athletic-looking people wistfully, and Chell would have to punch her in the arm to remind her that staring is rude.

Gladys learned a lot about Chell in their first few months together, perhaps most importantly that Chell was capable of speech. Very articulate speech, actually. The first person she spoke to was a bank teller, whom she had to argue with over re-activating an account that had been dormant for 99999[CORRUPTED]. She made her case eloquently and with trademark tenacity, and eventually obtained a checkbook, debit card and several hundred dollars in cash. They spent their first night in a park, camping in a tent Chell wisely purchased. The next day, Chell spoke to a landlord and obtained the lease to a two-bedroom apartment.

They’ve been living there for five months. Chell still hasn’t spoken to Gladys.

Gladys still makes the time to fling barbs at her, but never vicious enough that Chell will change her mind and throw her out. She’s still a little stunned at the human’s hospitality toward her, and she thinks that maybe they’ve become infected with that human emotion called friendship.

She would never in a million years admit that out loud, though.

 

* * *

 

“What _is_ that?”

Gladys surveys the sequined garment Chell is holding with a disgusted curiosity. She has never seen an article of clothing so… shiny before, and yet Chell is holding it out to her, in the same manner she’d held her own jumpsuit out to the other woman so many months ago.

“You expect me to _wear_ that?” Gladys sounds scandalized. Since becoming human, she has favored very professional-looking clothes; suits and coats, pencil skirts. Chell thinks she always looks a little too much like a lab assistant, and hides things she thinks the blonde wears too often, laughing when Gladys comes out of her room, red-faced and furious at the other woman’s antics.

Chell keeps jabbing the dress in Gladys’ face.

“No. Never. I see absolutely no reason to disgrace myself in such a manner.” She crosses her arms, which she’s gotten quite good at. It only takes one try. Chell sighs, points to Gladys, then herself, then to a postcard-sized piece of glossy paper on the refrigerator. It’s very colorful, with pictures of people dressed in similarly sequined clothes and multicolored lights overhead. The top reads “THE PIT” and underneath is an enticing “FRIDAY NIGHTS LADIES DRINK FREE”.

“What is that place? Why do you want us to go there?” Chell sighs again and mimes drinking, then dancing. “Okay, humans have a hard time ignoring free things, but why do I have to wear that monstrosity?” Chell walks over to the card and jabs very insistently at part of it. She’s pointing to a man, but Gladys can’t discern that without verbal clues. “Is it a dress code?”

Obviously frustrated, Chell just puts her hands on her hips and stares Gladys down. Now it’s Gladys’ turn to sigh. “You know, this would be a _whole_ lot easier if you would just _talk_ to me.”

Chell’s eyes widen a fraction, but instead of speaking, she just drops the dress on the floor and strides into her room.

When Chell comes out, dressed in a beaded halter top and incredibly short shorts, Gladys is sitting on the couch, wearing the equally short dress. When Chell leaves the apartment, Gladys silently follows her.

 

* * *

 

When they enter the club, Chell lets out a long exhale, looking like she’s been holding her breath since they got in the cab. She smiles and heads toward the bar. Gladys, on the other hand, immediately coughs at the smoke in the air, then covers her ears to shield them from the deafening music. When Chell notices the former AI isn’t behind her, she grabs Gladys by the wrist and drags her along.

Gladys thinks perhaps this is a convenient way for Chell to further avoid talking, as even if she did, no one would be able to hear her. Chell seems oblivious to this, signaling to the bartender that she and her friend want vodka martinis, straight-up. The bartender gives her compliant smile, and when he sets the drinks on the bar, she sets a few dollars down for a tip when she grabs them.

Turning back to Gladys, who is observing this whole spectacle with a sort of scientific appraisal, she shoves the drink in her face. Gladys tries to say “You bring me to a place like this and then expect me to _lower my inhibitions_?”, but it’s lost in the pounding bass, and she gives in when she sees Chell happily downing her own drink. When she’s finished, the brunette gets them another round. And another. When Gladys looks like she’s having trouble keeping her balance while standing still, Chell decides it’s time to dance.

Grabbing Gladys’ hand again, she half-drags half-supports her to the lowered dance floor, putting a hand on her stomach to keep her from falling down the few stairs. Thankfully, they stay on the edge of the floor, out of the crush of bodies closer to the center. Gladys needs the room, and the air. Chell, on the other hand, immediately begins jumping up and down, pumping her fists in the air in time to the beat of the music. Gladys marvels at how good a jumper she is even without her longfall boots, transfixed by the movements of the other woman’s body.

She’s not moving, though, and Chell notices when she opens her eyes and laughs, grabbing Gladys’ hands and pumping them in the air for her. Gladys blinks and tries to say “I don’t-” but there’s no point. She’s a mute as Chell now, finding it necessary to use body language. To try and say she doesn’t dance would be too difficult, so instead of trying, she gives in, moving her arms on her own. Chell smiles and lets them go, but decides Gladys needs to put her whole body into it. She grabs Gladys’ hips and starts to sway them side to side.

Gladys jumps a little at the contact; dulled by alcohol it still feels like little electric sparks where the other woman’s fingers touch. It feels…

good.

So she lets go, and holds onto Chell instead.

At the end of each song, they pause, and when the next starts, they get closer. Chell slides her hands down Gladys’ sides, from under her arms down to her thighs. Gladys wraps her arms around Chell’s neck, her chin rubbing Chell’s temple. She’s too tall, so she ducks down, and Chell pushes her thighs down so she’s in a squatting position. Gladys keeps moving her hips. She doesn’t stop when Chell slips her knee between her legs. She does when that knee presses a part of her body she’d given almost no thought to.

That’s not a spark, that’s an explosion. If the music weren’t so loud, Chell would have heard a full-throated, melodic moan rise from Gladys’ throat, but as it was, she could feel the shudder in the other woman’s body. She puts her hand under one of Gladys’ legs, lifting it to wrap around her waist, so Gladys is entirely dependent on Chell for support. She’s going to need it.

If you had told Chell as she was ascending the elevator out of Aperture Science Laboratories that in a few months she’d be on a dance floor grinding against a human version of GLaDOS in a few months, she would have walked away. But now, Gladys is pressed flush against her, and Chell can feel the other woman’s panties rubbing against her thigh, damp from sweat and too-long-dormant arousal. Chell moves a hand from Gladys’ back around to her breast, massaging it with her thumb.

Gladys is on the precipice of sound, wavering between the tuneless thumping in her ears and the silence of Chell, no longer caring where they are or what’s happening. She surrenders to the edge, tilting her head back to expose her long, milky-white neck.

Chell can’t resist the sight. She tilts her head forward and runs her tongue up the length of Gladys’ neck. Gladys shudders again and clings to her, looking her in the eyes. Time stops. Their chests seize. Then the world collapses as their lips finally meet. Once they do, they don’t separate, only parting to allow Chell’s tongue to slip into Gladys’ mouth.

Gladys feels like she’s short-circuiting, even though she knows it’s not possible anymore. This is like test euphoria times ten. No, times… one of those ridiculously huge numbers humans make up. Chell’s hand moves underneath her dress, around to cup her rear, and Gladys thinks there has to be another ridiculously huge number. And another.

When they finally break apart (reluctantly), Chell lets Gladys go slowly and points to herself, then the sign for the restrooms. Gladys nods dazedly and follows her, then waits outside the door. She’s sort of in a trance, staring at her hands, when she feels someone lean in close to her, then shout a question into her ear.

“Hey, little lady, what’s your name?” the man asks, the twang in his voice audible even though he’s shouting. He’s so close she can see that his eyes are green even in the dim light.

Gladys lifts an eyebrow at him and responds “Gladys.”

He laughs roguishly. “A pretty name for a pretty little lady. You wanna dance, little lady?” He asks, putting a hand on the wall next to her head.

Gladys lifts her other eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

Before he can answer, Gladys sees a hand tap him on the shoulder. When he turns to look, there’s a pronounced thump as a fist hits him in the face, and he falls to the ground. Gladys turns to see Chell shaking her right hand, but only for a moment before she grabs Gladys’ hand and starts to run.

They don’t stop running until they’re two blocks away, backs against a brick building, breathing heavily, and then they collapse with laughter, arms wrapped around each other. “I’m deaf!” Gladys proclaims, burying her face in Chell’s shoulder, “I think I’m deaf!” She leans back again and they catch each other’s eyes, laughter subsiding. Gladys’ breathing begins to even out, and the smile doesn’t leave her lips when she says “I’m so turned on right now,” the irony not escaping her. Chell grabs the front of her dress and yanks her in for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

The cab driver doesn’t say anything, and even if he did, they wouldn’t notice. They’re too preoccupied with each other; touches and looks and tiny little sparks that build to shocks on bare skin. When the taxi stops, Chell throws a $50 at the driver while Gladys tries to drag her out. They can’t make it up the stairs fast enough.

They don’t even make it into a bedroom. Chell pushes Gladys onto the couch just inside the door, straddling her legs and pulling up the hem of her dress. Gladys lifts her hips so the other woman can pull the garment off over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties. Of course, Chell makes quick work of her bra, dropping it beside them on the couch and leaning down to lick an already-erect nipple.

“Oh God,” Gladys moans, grabbing blindly at Chell’s hair and shoulder. Chell massages her other breast with her hand while the tip of her tongue plays over the other, flicking the nipple back and forth, then sucking on it. She nips gently, and when Gladys groans and grips her hair tighter, she bites harder, working on a bruise. Gladys doesn’t seem opposed to this.

Chell continues the foreplay for a while, then slides Gladys down sideways so she’s lying on her back. Sitting on her hips, Chell removes her top. Gladys just observes the smooth, toned body of the other woman, remembering watching those muscles move underneath her standard testing uniform, not with lust, but mere fascination. Chell is-was-is-the perfect test subject, with the perfect build, intelligence, and resourcefulness. Of course, these qualities don’t only help with testing.

The buzzing in Gladys’ veins builds to a crescendo when Chell slips her hand under the elastic of Gladys’ underwear, tangling her fingers in coarse curls and further down into damp heat. “Oh _God_ ,” Gladys nearly screams as those fingers start to move, pushing against sensitive areas not yet explored. There’s a smile on Chell’s lips as she leans down, pressing their bodies together and kissing at Gladys’ neck. All Gladys can feel is heat and good and fire and tight muscle spasms, reaching up to hold onto Chell with all her might. Chell’s fingers start to move faster, each brush against her clit drawing out a little moan or a sharp gasp. Gladys spreads her legs further, allowing, almost asking, for Chell to slip a finger inside her.

Gladys lets out one of those hauntingly beautiful melodic moans, and Chell can’t help but look up at her face, into her eyes, and whisper “GLaDOS,” before silencing them both with a kiss.

The sound of Chell’s voice, speaking _to_ her, with _her_ name, not her human name, but her _real_ name, is enough to send Gladys over the edge. She clenches, every muscle in her stomach taut, then collapses bonelessly, breathing like she can’t possibly get enough air into her lungs.

Chell moves her fingers more slowly, letting Gladys ride out her afterglow, then removes them, letting them play along her stomach. She hasn’t come, but that display was enough to satisfy her. For now, anyway. Gladys has the back of her hand on her forehead, looking like she’s ready to pass out from the pleasure, but the corners of her lips are twitching in what might be a smile.

“That,” she says in between breaths, “was incredible.” Chell stacks her hands on Gladys’ chest and rests her chin on them, beaming up at her. “Test euphoria doesn’t hold a candle to it,” she smiles back, looking down at the other woman with heavy-lidded eyes, “and the way you punched that guy. That was incredible too.”

Chell rolls her eyes, still grinning. “You talk too much,” she says, and Gladys tilts her head back, releasing a deep sigh and light, genuine laughter.

“You don’t talk at all. Someone has to compensate.”

“Well, now that I’ve decided to start, perhaps you should cut back.”

“That’s like asking a turret not to shoot organic lifeforms.”

Chell rolls her eyes again, then leans up and covers Gladys’ mouth with a kiss. They stay like that for a few moments, reveling in the closeness. When they separate, Gladys lets out a contented sigh. “That is one way to shut me up,” she teases.

“I’m sure I can think of many more,” Chell teases right back, giving her breast a firm squeeze.

In time to come, their neighbors give them awkward looks, apparently well aware of what the two women do in the privacy of their apartment (and sometimes the stairwell, and the elevator, and the mail room), but neither Chell nor Gladys care. They’re over 99999[CORRUPTED] old, and they’re not going to live forever, so fuck if they’re not going to make the most of what they have left. Together.


End file.
